The Sister's Story
by ava-ked
Summary: Petunia, the sister of Lily Evans Potter. She hated her sister. But how had that hatred ever began? How had the closeness between two best friends developed into hatred? A fic exploring Petunia's innermost thoughts.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR. I own nothing.

**The Sister's Story**

**Prologue**

The funeral was over. Harry was still thinking about various things, and didn't notice his uncle until he was right in front of him.

"Here, boy. Take this." Uncle Vernon plonked a big trunk down in front of Harry.

"What's that?"

"Something your aunt insisted on keeping for God knows what reason. Now that she's gone, I'm not going to have it taking up space. You do what you want with it." And with that, Uncle Vernon walked swiftly away.

Harry stared at the trunk. It looked completely normal. As he examined it, he saw the faint remainings of a few letters. Letters which seemed to make up the name...

_Lily Evans_

His mother's old school trunk. Harry's mind was too full of questions for him to think very clearly. He realised, however, that he wouldn't have the time now to open it. The Portkey which Dumbledore had given him would be taking him back to Hogwarts in a couple of minutes.

Later on, after supper in the sanctuary of his dormitory, Harry opened the trunk. The first thing which caught his eye was a small leather notebook. He picked it up, and flicked through it. It was filled with writing. Thinking that he should deal with the contents of the trunk one at a time, he started reading it.

_I am dying now, and I do not have much time left. I had always wanted to write down my story, my version of the events. I had never had a chance to do that, and it looks as though I might not ever have a chance again. So this is my story. The story of the one who no one knows about. The story of the sister of the famous Lily Evans._

So. His Aunt Petunia's diary.

That's the end of the prologue! I have uploaded chapter one as well, so please head onto that if you're still interested. Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR. I own nothing.

**The Sister's Story**

**Chapter One**

From the moment she was born, everybody adored her. The perfect little girl, they all said. I agreed. I loved my baby sister from the second I beheld her in her cradle. Things didn't change as she grew older. She looked up to me, her older sister who, in her eyes, could do no wrong even though in reality I was far from perfect. I was rather awkward, and didn't really have any true friends. So I spent my free time playing with my baby sister. As the years went on, though, she seemed less like a little sister and more like a true friend I could confide anything to. We giggled together. We experimented with makeup together. We talked far into the night, delving into all kinds of subjects, both silly and serious. Crushes we had had. Books which we had both loved. That scene in the film which was just so sad and had made us both cry. You name it, we'd discussed it.

Then, one day, she talked to me about what had happened to her in school that day.

"It was so _weird_, 'Tunia. One moment, I was wishing that I could just kick him for making fun of my hair, and the next, there was just this huge bruise on his shin. I suppose my foot just slipped, or something, but I really don't remember anything of the sort happening. Don't you think that's weird?"

"You wished it, and it happened? Wow, that's not weird, that's cool!"

That was just one of the many similar conversations we had. As she grew older, not a month could pass without some kind of letter from our school, detailing what strange thing she had done next. My parents took it all in stride, accepting that there was just something strange about her. As for me, I admired her for it. I wasn't really jealous, or even envious. I didn't want to have whatever ability she had. I was just happy that my sister, _my_ little sister had something special. But Lily hadn't been pleased about it. She hadn't liked the way that everyone avoided her, as though she had some kind of disease. I must have chided her a thousand times.

"Look, just accept it, you have some kind of superhuman ability. Hey, maybe you can do something to that guy who lives down the street - he keeps telling me I look like a horse. Why are you complaining about it? It's great! No one dares to cross you or tease you now."

And things went on like that until I was in my teens. And then, it happened. On my birthday, in fact. My birthday. We were just about to leave for the amusement park, when it swooped in. My parents and I screamed, and so did Lily, when the monstrosity landed on her shoulder. My mother was all set to hitting it with a chair, when I noticed that it had a piece of paper tied to her leg.

"No, Mum, don't. Look, isn't that a piece of paper? Doesn't it have anything written on it?"

I lived to regret my observation. If I hadn't mentioned something, if it had spent its last moment under the leg of a chair, then maybe... But I have to get a grip on myself and continue with the story.

It turned out to be a letter. Telling Lily that she had magical abilities, and that she had been accepted to a school for training said abilities. A few minutes after the letter arrived, a stern looking woman appeared on the doorstep. She answered in detail all the questions which my parents had. Once it was all over, though, they were overjoyed. Overjoyed to find that their daughter wasn't a freak of nature, and that there were thousands like her all over the world. Lily seemed happier, too. And, at first, I too was happy. Happy that my sister was finally going somewhere where she would be accepted and not shunned. But later that day (my birthday trip had been cancelled) I suddenly realised something.

The woman had mentioned that it was a boarding school. Granted, Lily could come home for Christmas and Easter holidays, and there were always the summer holidays, but the fact remained that I would not be seeing her for over eight months out of twelve. My only true friend, soon to become a complete stranger to me. For I was not stupid. The only reason we had been so close was because she didn't have any real friends either. They had feared her and her strange abilities, and most children in her class had avoided her. But now...surrounded by people with the same abilities, she would have friends too. Friends who would take my place. I slipped out of the house whilst my sister was chattering brightly about something or other with my parents, and wandered around our small village, thinking my dismal thoughts.

To her credit, Lily soon noticed that I was gone. It didn't take her long to find me. I had gone down to what had been our special place, under a tree in the small park near our house. She guessed immediately what was wrong.

"Hey, 'Tunia, don't worry. Sure, I might make new friends. But they won't be you. No one will ever take your place, 'Tunia. We'll still be the same, you know? Just the two of us, the disastrous duo."

At the mention of the nickname our parents had created for us, I smiled sadly. For in my heart I feared that we would never be the same ever again.

I allowed Lily to lead me back to our house, where my parents were still talking excitedly and making arrangements to get Lily's school supplies.

Throughout the summer, I gradually grew more and more depressed. I was no longer as bright and cheerful as I used to be, something which didn't slip past Lily. But try as she might, she never managed to lift that cloud of perpetual dejection which hung over me. Whenever she brought the subject up, I told her to shut up, go away, and leave me alone. As a last resort, she even told me that she'd considered not going. That was when I really blew up at her. For, secretly, selfishly, I had considered, even hoped, for that. And it's never nice when someone voices one of those thoughts which come from the dark part of your mind, those thoughts which pop up briefly now and again, only to be immediately suppressed by the more conscious part of the mind. She had guessed my dark secret. I knew that it was selfish to want her to stay here, with me. I knew that even if she stayed, we wouldn't ever be the same again. She would try not to, but she would blame me for it. For the lost chance to be with her kind of people. So I blew up.

I accused _her_ of being selfish and self-centred, for thinking that everything was about her.

"Why do you think that I'm depressed because of you? It's always you, isn't it, Lily? Always you, you, you! I'm not depressed because of you, because you're leaving. Come to that, I'm not depressed at all! Why do you constantly pester me? Can't you see that I just want to be alone?!"

She never pestered me again after that.

We didn't speak again for the rest of the summer. I knew that it was my fault, but I couldn't bring myself to apologise to her. A few times, I approached her...and then walked away. For what good would it do? She'd leave anyway, whatever terms we were on. In fact, I _wanted_ her to leave. Not because I hated her, or anything. Just because, despite our argument, I still loved her and wanted the best for her. And I knew that going off to school, no, going off to _Hogwarts_, would be best for her. And if she had to leave anyway, it was best that she left thinking that I was still angry at her. Then she would have no reason, no _motive_ to not make new friends. For I knew my sister. She was incredibly loyal, and she would never allow herself to make new friends, to be close to anyone if she knew how I felt. Right now, all she knew was that I was angry at her, and with that in mind, she would have no trouble being her normal lively and charming self which would no doubt guarantee her popularity amongst her classmates. Yes, that was best for her.

I didn't know if my sister guessed my plans. An uneasy silence hung over our house now, neither of us shouting at each other anymore. My parents were troubled, knowing that something was wrong, but not knowing what could be done about it. They thought that I was jealous of Lily. Of her abilities, and the fact that she would go to a magical school. I did not tell them my true feelings. The fact that I was not jealous at all, but merely acting the way I was for Lily's own good. So that she would enjoy herself in her new environment. Or, at least, that was what I told myself.

September the first finally arrived. I had agreed to accompany Lily to the train station. I had wanted to spare myself the pain of watching her leave, watching her walk out of my life, but I knew that I couldn't _not_ go. Hard though it might be, I had to be there to witness my sister's moment. The day she had looked forward to so much, however much she had tried to hide that from me. And I pretended to my parents that I only went along reluctantly. I don't know if my sister was fooled, all I do know was that she stared at me piercingly all the way throughout our journey to the station. I turned my back on her, watched outside the window, and marveled at the way the thunder and rain outside mirrored my own feelings exactly.

We arrived with twenty minutes to spare. Lily entered the platform the way she had been told, but when my parents tried to do the same, they found that they couldn't. Neither, to my dismay, could I. Two minutes later Lily reappeared at our side, looking confused, but at the sight of our parents' and mine disheveled appearance, realised what had happened. She said her goodbyes to our parents, and then turned to me. I fought to keep that look of disinterested annoyance on my face, but I knew that some of the concern and anxiety must have found its way through, because for a second, I saw a suspicious brightness in her green eyes. I hardened my face, and turned away. When I looked back, she was gone.

Ignoring my parents' rebukes, I led the way to the car. And later on, in the privacy of my bedroom, I broke down completely. Torrents of tears made their way onto my sheets, uncontrollable no longer. I remembered all the fun we had had, all those late night conversations we shared, and then...the silence this summer. And as I gradually fell asleep, only one phrase was foremost in my mind.

_And so, it ends._

So, thoughts? I have planned to write more, leading up to the Petunia of today we all know and love :) Thanks for reading, and please leave a review telling me what you thought of what I have so far! After all, if you've spent the time reading the fic, why not spend a few more seconds reviewing?


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR. I own nothing.

**The Sister**'**s Story**

**Chapter Two**

We constantly received letters from her, letters detailing how she found her classes, the various professors who taught her, and...the new friends she had made. She always addressed her letters to all three of us, not leaving me out, but never singling me out either. I still remember various excerpts from her letters.

_And Professor Flitwick told me I was a natural at Charms! Imagine! I'm so pleased that I'm doing well at something._

_*_

_The boys in our class are really annoying, though, I guess boys are the same everywhere. They keep making fun of my hair, and calling it ginger. But I just ignored them. Don't worry, Mum, I won't let them get to me._

_*_

_There's a really nice girl in my class with whom I've made friends. Her name's Talia. She's from a wizarding family, and she was amazed to hear that I didn't even know about Hogwarts until the letter came. She's been helping me out with some stuff, like explaining aspects of the wizarding world._

*

I was, of course, pleased to hear that she had made new friends. After all, wasn't that what I had hoped for her?

Lily didn't come back for Christmas. Apparently, she was enjoying herself very much at school, and wanted to experience a wizarding Christmas. I didn't know how I felt about that. I did not particularly want to see her, as I wasn't sure how to act around her anymore. Should I still pretend to hate her? Did I hate her? Shaking my head, I abandoned the train of questions which had been all too common lately.

I don't know what I had expected when Lily came back for the summer after her first year. Maybe a re-enactment of the silence of the year before, or maybe a pretense that nothing had ever gone wrong between us. I didn't go to King's Cross with my parents to pick her up, thinking that it would re-enforce the impression that I hated her.

It was worse than I had feared. Lily had been very friendly towards me, actively seeking me out and starting conversations. It was, in fact, similar to what she had been like before the letter. I was moved. I was touched. Most of all, I was confused. Should I, also, revert back to my old self? I knew that our friendship could probably be patched up, as long as I spoke up. We had had fights in the past, of course, although none of them had lasted for this long. I admit that I had wanted to reach out to her, and apologise for my behaviour. Thankfully, though, I didn't. I managed to preserve my cool, disinterested air. And soon, exactly like last year, Lily drew away after observing the lack of effect her words had on me. I felt unidentifiable emotions in me each time I saw her hurt expression after each encounter, but I hardened my heart, and told myself that it was all for the best. Now she could resume her friendships at school, and live happily in her new world.

Nearly every week, I heard sniffles coming from my sister's bedroom across the corridor. In fact, I actually got up several times, but only made it as far as my door before I turned back. Why should I lose out on my sleep just because she couldn't get herself together? Besides, I was doing this for _her_.

I didn't accompany her to King's Cross for the beginning of her second year. She was obviously hurt, perhaps remembering that I had, in fact, went the previous year. I still remember our last exchange of words before she parted for the second time¡­

"'Tunia -"

"My name is _Pe_tunia, thank you very much. And you're blocking the doorway with your trunk. Either move it, or move yourself."

And she had turned away sadly, not understanding why I was being so cold to her.

* * *

The years progressed. Lily came over a handful of times for Christmas, once the novelty of a wizarding Christmas had worn off. Each summer, she would be friendly towards me at the beginning, but soon withdrew. Each summer, it took less time for her to withdraw. And each summer, I found it less hard to keep my act up. I congratulated myself on my self control and discipline.

I soon noticed that my parents treated us differently. They seemed to pay more attention to Lily, and sought out her opinions more in the conversations we shared. They also asked her many more questions. Well, that was to be expected, wasn't it? After all, she was the one who was going to a magical school. I told myself that it was only natural that my parents should talk more to Lily, especially since she was only home for a few months every year, whereas they saw me every day. I told myself that my parents were only human, and probably couldn't help liking her better. I even told myself that with the way I'd been acting towards Lily, my parents were fully justified to pay more attention to her. But still I felt something bitter within me, resenting the fact that my parents seemed to like Lily more than they liked me.

Once she brought a few friends of hers over. Talia, the girl she had spoken of in her letters, James, a bespectacled boy with messy black hair, and Sirius, another black haired boy with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Tu - Petunia, these are my friends. Talia, James and Sirius," she gesticulated to each one in turn as she spoke their names. "This is my sister, Petunia."

I nodded, and spoke the perfunctory words. "Nice to meet you." Lily looked up, a sudden hope in her eyes. _Silly girl, haven't you learned by now that it's no good?_ "I'm sorry, but I have a lot of work to do. Schoolwork, you know, from a _normal_ school. See you around, freaks."

That night, I pretended not to hear the sniffles coming from my sister's bedroom. I found it an easy matter to turn on my side, away from her. But I couldn't get to sleep. Neither, apparently, could Lily. After about an hour, I got up, fully prepared to go into her room and to tell her to shut up. As I was padding my way to her room, however, I heard footsteps coming from the opposite direction. Slowly backing into my room, I heard whispers.

"You think she's alright?"

"Would _you_ be, having someone call addressing you as a freak all the time?"

"Good point."

"I feel so sorry for Lily. I thought she was exaggerating with her stories of how her sister treats her. I mean, she said they were _best friends_ once."

"Yeah. It would be like you and me having a fight."

"Um...Sirius? We do have fights. Remember that one when I turned your hair pink?"

"I paid you back remember? And then I saw fit to forgive you for that particular transgression."

"Thank you, Sirius. I feel so honoured. And stop showing off your vocabulary."

"Oh shut up. My point is, that fight didn't continue. We made up. Besides, that particular incident was nothing to when you turned _Snape's_ hair pink."

There were sudden scufflings as the boys resumed their way to Lily's room. They paused, however, at the closed door.

"Lily? Are you awake in there?"

"Who is it?"

"Talia? Is that you? Why are you in there?"

"Think about it. Why are you guys outside Lily's door?" A pause. "Don't worry, she's fine now."

"Oh, right."

"Lily? Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Really, guys. Thanks for coming."

"No problem."

"Yeah, no problem, Lily."

"See you tomorrow."

"See you at breakfast, Lil'."

I heard the interaction, crouching behind my door. Obviously, there had been no need for me to go. _Wait, I was going to tell her to shut up. Not to -_ I broke my train of thought. Lily had her friends who cared. That was all I wanted to know. Or was it? Why did I find myself suddenly hating her? _And if I do hate her, then why do I still care about her? No, wait, I don't care about her. But...I'm doing all this for her. I...I should care about her. But then why do I -_ I was going round in circles. Halting my confusing thoughts, I forced myself to go to sleep.

* * *

Talia and the boys left two weeks later. Whilst they had been here, I had holed myself in my room, reading, and listening to music. Not once had I joined the antics of my sister and her friends, although judging from the shrieks of mirth I often heard emanating from her room, they evidently hadn't needed my company. All through that summer, the summer of Lily's fourth year, I had arguments with myself. What did I really feel for my sister? I told myself I should feel happy for her, having achieved friends in the wizarding world. After all, wasn't that what I was hoping for her? Wasn't that why I had persisted in my act to hate her? _Act? Is it even an act anymore?_ But all the same, I couldn't help but feel anger towards her, though I could never pinpoint the exact reason for my bitterness.

I admit that I was curious about Lily's feelings for me. Did she hate me? Surely she didn't, or else she wouldn't persist in her attempts to get me to respond to her. The letters from her came few and far between now. However, I had justification to believe that my parents were withholding some of Lily's letters from me. One day, I heard them talking when they thought I'd fallen asleep.

"It's nice that Lily's doing so well in school."

"Yes, it is, although I do wish that she and Petunia would make up this silly fight."

"It's not so much Lily as it is Petunia, though. I'm not trying to take Lily's side over her sister's in this, but it's difficult, when all we've got Lily's information and what we've personally seen. Petunia just hasn't talked to us, or said _anything_, and she's always brushing Lily off! We don't know her motivations, or anything. Look, we've seen how Lily constantly tries to draw Petunia out of her shell, and she says - hang on, let me find it - look, here, she _says._"

A pause, and the sound of the ruffling of paper.

"I don't know. I just don't know. This...this whole thing with Lily and Petunia. They were so happy, so..._normal_ before all this started. Not that they're not normal now, of course, but Petunia is constantly moping around the house. I don't even believe she's got any close friends. I'm worried about her."

"Perhaps I should try and have a talk with her sometime. Get her to explain her feelings. Maybe that might help resolve this whole mess."

"You think I haven't already tried to do that? She tells me that 'everything's fine'. And that there is 'nothing wrong'."

I stopped listening around that point. It was obvious that my parents really did favour Lily. They thought that it was all my fault, and that I wasn't _normal_. Fury welled up in me. How dare they say that _I_ wasn't normal? When Lily was the one who was going to a special school? Learning _magic_? And _I_ wasn't _normal_? Also, I had never seen a letter where Lily said anything about her feelings over the disagreement. Which just proved that my parents were taking her side in this by hiding her letters from me, and that she was talking about me behind my back. Trying to convince our parents that the fight was all my fault. And our parents had fallen for it. Well, honestly! _They_ were the ones who taught me the phrase 'it takes two to tango'. And now they thought it was all my fault? Just because of something Lily wrote in her letters? _But...but Lily has tried to talk to you. And you were the one who ignored her. Maybe...maybe..._

I ignored the tiny voice in my head telling me that, yes, it did take two to tango, but that I was the one who had ignored Lily, even when she had tried her hardest to resolve the fight. I told myself that it was unfair, and that I had a right to feel indignant.

The whole affair merely augmented my curiosity about Lily's true feelings about me. I had tried to find the letter my parents were discussing, but I never could. I grew more and more frustrated in my search for it, and in the end, I gave up and asked my parents whether they had kept any old letters of Lily's. They exchanged a glance, and after a pause, told me that all the letters we had received were kept in Lily's room.

I was shocked. Did they mean _all_ the letters? So _that_ letter was in Lily's room also? No, I told myself. My parents had probably already sorted the letters out, and kept the ones which included me in it. Nevertheless, I went to Lily's room, in search of the letters. Maybe one of them..._might_ include something.

On entering Lily's room, however, I saw no sign of the letters. Maybe they were kept in one of the drawers in her desk? I asked my parents, and they said, yes, they were probably in there. On opening a drawer, however, the first thing I saw was a notebook. On the cover were fancy letters. _Lily E. Evans._ I knew what this was. This was my sister's diary. I had received one exactly the same, with my name embossed on the cover, for my tenth birthday.

I couldn't help it. Nosiness had always been a fault of mine, and although I told myself that it was wrong, that it was _private_, that I would commit suicide if Lily ever read my diary, I still couldn't resist. My heart hammering, I opened it on a random page.

_'I'm so excited! An owl just came telling me that I'm a witch, and that I'm going to go to a special school, for learning magic in September! The witch who came told us all sorts of things, and even demonstrated some magic. It was amazing! It was a pity that it happened on Petunia's birthday, however, and I think she's a bit upset about it. She disappeared after, and I found her in the park. I tried to -_

I closed the diary hastily. What was I doing? This was _my sister's diary._ I had no right to be reading it. _Ah, but you didn't care about that a few minutes ago, did you? Even though you knew it was wrong? _Shoving the diary back into the desk, I slammed it shut and left Lily's room. I was appalled at what I'd just done. Nevertheless, a part of me had felt a thrill when I was reading her diary.

After that incident, I constantly felt the urge to go into Lily's room and continue reading her diary. Each time, however, I managed to repel my curiosity. I told myself that it was wrong, and that, yes, I had given in once, but that it wouldn't happen again. After all, I still had _standards_. There were some things I simply would not do. I repeated these things to myself, trying to convince myself that I _wasn't_ low, that I _wasn't_ nothing, and that I still _had_ morals. Somewhere inside of me, however, the thought remained that I was a miserable and contemptible being, for invading my sister's privacy. To repress that thought, I tried to shift the blame onto my sister. After all, if it wasn't for her actions, I wouldn't have felt curiosity, and I wouldn't have been tempted to go into her room and read her diary. Yes, it was her fault. After all, she hadn't exactly acted honourably, complaining about me to our parents behind my back. I told myself I was fully justified to have done what I did, and that had it not been for _her_, I would not have this wretched feeling inside of me. Whenever Lily came home from school, I acted even worse to her than I'd done before, because I felt that she deserved it, for making me feel this miserable. I conveniently forgot the fact that I should still be acting, that I _shouldn't_ be feeling horrible about her. I told myself that she was unworthy, and that she didn't really deserve to have me looking out for her welfare.

* * *

I had achieved only mediocre marks in my years at school, and after finishing high school, I had not gone on to university. Instead, I began working as a secretary in a company for making drills. I no longer lived with my parents, but instead rented a small apartment near where I worked. It was a dreary job, but I stuck through it. With my marks, it was unlikely that I could find anything much better.

Lily left for her last year of Hogwarts. As usual, I hadn't accompanied her to the station, and chose instead to stay at home. It was during that year when tragedy struck. I was in the office doing extra work on that particular day, but my parents were both at home. They were defenceless against the black robed people who came in and uttered the words of destruction. I was told later that it had been quick, and that it had only taken seconds, but that had not lessened my grief. Lily was told, of course, and came down from her school to attend the funeral. It was a sombre affair. Lily was distraught, that much was obvious. She didn't say a word as she sat through it, tears pouring down her face. I was distraught too, but far less emotion showed through. After the funeral, I began walking towards the subway, where I would catch a train to my apartment.

I was interrupted by a shout. Turning around, I saw that it was my sister.

"You're just going to leave? Just like that?" Lily looked furious.

"The funeral's over. They're dead. What else can I do?" I spoke calmly.

"They were our _parents_. Don't you even _care_?" She was crying now, choking out her words.

"Of course I care. But there's nothing else to be done. Excuse me, Lily, I have to get back to work." Although my tone was calm, inwardly I was as broken up as she was. But years of suppressing my emotions had meant that I could control them well.

"You just don't care about them, do you? I thought it was only me you didn't care about, but that you still loved them. Are you even capable of feeling _anything_, Petunia? You call me the freak. But think of yourself! You're the freak! You're inhuman! You don't even seem to be bothered about their death!"

Her words hurt me. A person without any feelings, that was what she thought of me. A monster who didn't even care about the death of her parents. A part of me knew that Lily was in grief right now, that she probably didn't really believe what she was saying. But that part was quickly squashed by the anger which was now rising quickly inside me.

"I'm a freak, am I? _I'm_ the freak? Those black robed people were of your type, don't forget. If it wasn't for you and your _abnormality,_ they would still be alive! You just had to go and become Head Girl at that school of yours, didn't you? Just had to show off? Just because you turned on the waterworks, my _dear_ sister, does not mean that you can fool me. You're feeling guilty! You know as well as I do that you were the cause of their deaths. So don't call me the freak just because I have the decency to not make a public spectacle of myself! And next time, before you accuse me of anything, think carefully about it. Were it not for your...unnaturalness...our parents would still be alive. You think about that, Lily. _You_ killed them."

I was simply lashing out at her, saying words which I knew would hurt her. Hurt her as she had hurt me. All these years, it had always been me pushing her away. At the back of my mind was always the belief that my sister still liked me, and that our friendship could still be patched up, as soon as _I_ spoke up. Now, however, it had all been turned upside down. I was no longer in control. Lily was just as angry with me as I was - _was? Shouldn't it be 'pretended to be'?_ - with her. It was a new situation, and I did not know how to deal with it. My words, however, seemed to do the trick. Lily had stopped short, looking horrified. She opened her mouth, undoubtedly to say something else. I braced myself. But the words never came. A look of utter shock on her face, Lily turned around and ran.

I took a few steps towards her, but then stopped. What was I doing? That had been my aim, had it not? To get her and her accusations away from me. I began walking purposefully towards the subway once again, determined to forget. Looking back now, that was probably the crucial moment. Had I not said those hurtful words, then Lily and I might have been reconciled over our mutual grief. Even after I'd said them, she might have forgiven me had I apologised to her later. Lily had clearly not been entirely in her own mind, and she was nothing if not fair and just. I did think of writing a letter to her later, in fact, but there was the difficulty of how to get it to her. My parents had owned an owl, so that they could communicate with Lily, but I would not touch that thing with a ten foot pole. It had been taken away by Lily. Just thinking about that owl, in fact, had made me angry. It was an owl which had started this whole thing. An owl carrying that piece of paper. The more I reminisced, the angrier I got. In the end, I tore up my letter, and resolved never to do anything of the sort again. Really, I was out of my mind. _Apologising to her? She should be the one apologising to_ me_!_ Once again, my pride had emerged as the stronger of the two conflicting emotions inside me, and that opportunity, like so many others, came and went.


	4. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR. I own nothing.

**The Sister's Story**

**Chapter Three**

I toiled away at my job. Lily never wrote to me, save once for asking if she could stay with her friends for the remaining holidays before she graduated. I had been asked to take care of her, as I was now officially her guardian, but I had gladly agreed when her letter came, stiffly asking my permission. A couple of months after her graduation, however, I was surprised to see an owl flying towards my bedroom window. My first instinct was to refuse to let it in. However, after two days, I gave up. As I thought, it was carrying a letter. It was written on very yellow and old looking paper. I glared at it. _They can't even afford to use proper paper_. Also as I had predicted, it was from Lily. I thought briefly about burning the envelope, but the memory of what had once happened when one of Lily's friends had tried to burn charmed paper was enough to deter me. Who knew if she had done something to it? It wouldn't be safe to burn it. Could I throw it away? Another memory of a book which had constantly followed its owner around, no matter where it was left, abolished that idea. In the end, I felt that I had no choice but to read it.

_Petunia,_

_I am going to get married to James Potter, a boy in my school. You are invited to the wedding, which will take place on the 15th of October. It will be taking place in a magical location, and therefore I cannot tell you precisely where it is. You would probably not be able to see it anyway, without the necessary charms. If you plan on attending, please reply, and someone will be sent over the day before to ensure that you can enter the location. Details of exactly where it is will also be disclosed, if you answer in the affirmative._

_Awaiting your reply,_

_Lily_

Her tone was so _formal_. _Of course it would be, what else did you expect?_ I realised that she was getting married to someone in her world, a thought which would probably have made me ecstatic when I was younger. But now there was nothing but...indifference. I couldn't really care less about her personal affairs. And as for her wedding, well really! Had she actually expected me to attend? I looked over the letter again, sniffing distastefully at the phrase 'to ensure that you can enter the location'. As if I'd let someone perform...rituals...on me. And all for seeing some secret location! Well, they could keep their abnormal and freaky locations to themselves. I wasn't going to bother with wasting my time over such nonsense.

On the morning of October 15th, I woke up with the vague idea that I had forgotten something. After looking at the calendar, and spending a good portion of the day pondering on the matter, I suddenly remembered what day it was. I had long ago thrown away the letter, but I could still remember every word as clear as if I'd just read it. I hadn't exactly admitted it to myself then, but her formal tone had stung me. There had been no acknowledgement of our relationship, not even a 'your sister, Lily'. She had written as if I was a perfect stranger. _Which she is perfectly justified to do, considering that you don't exactly recognise her as your sister anymore._ That night, as I was trying to get to sleep, I felt the faint traces of something which could have been guilt. I banished the feeling away immediately. Honestly! It was ridiculous the way I was thinking. I had been right in ignoring the letter. Besides, if I had attended, I would have been surrounded by people of..._her type._ It was best not to mix with those kind of people, really.

The months came and went. I had become engaged to Vernon Dursley, a man working in the same company as me. I hadn't really loved him, but then again he was quite well off, and I didn't have any particular negative feelings about him either. I had told him nothing about my sister, save for the fact that she was a freak. I painted her in the worst way possible, and Vernon, who thankfully thought the same as me, did not pursue the issue. We had an unspoken agreement to never talk about her in the household. I moved out of my tiny apartment, and into a very nice house which Vernon had purchased.

I had thought briefly about notifying my sister of the date of the wedding. Then, I dismissed the notion. After all, what would be the purpose? I had not attended her wedding, and I did not want it to seem as though I was begging her to attend mine. No, it would be better, really, to not send her anything at all. However, even though I was decided on the issue, I couldn't help thinking that she _had_ sent me an invitation, and that it would be only proper, and completely normal, to send her one also. As a mere gesture of politeness. In the end, I settled with sending her a note after my wedding, telling her that I had got married. I never received anything from her acknowledging her receipt of my note. I told myself that it had probably got lost in the post, due to the fact that one glance at the envelope of an old note of hers really wasn't enough for me to memorise the return address correctly.

A year after my marriage, my son was born. We named him Dudley. It was actually Vernon's decision, and I had let him have his way, even though I wasn't really keen on the name. As Dudley grew though, I lavished more and more love on him, the love I felt that my parents had not given to me. I decided to not have any more children after Dudley, so that he would never grow up as I had, feeling unloved. I conveniently forgot all my old feelings towards my parents, and the arguments I had used to convince myself that they _had_ in fact loved me.

I got another note from Lily a few months after Dudley was born. It stated very briefly that she had given birth to a boy, Harry. I was surprised that she even chose to notify me. I had not said anything after Dudley's birth, and the fact that she had actually chosen to tell me, was, to me, astonishing. Her tone, was again, very formal, but this time included an 'I just thought you might be interested' before signing off. I admit that I was perplexed with that. Why would she have thought I'd wanted to know? That I'd be interested? Was it because I had notified her of my marriage? Again, I felt some qualms of guilt because I had not told her about Dudley, and after a week of contemplating her note, I decided to reply to it. I chose to ignore the fact that I still knew her address.

I had not told Vernon about this exchange, because I did not want him to view me as weak, replying to the note instead of just throwing it away and ignoring it. Indeed, I wasn't sure myself why I had chosen to reply, and keep the note. My few seconds of over sentimentality was paid for, though, when Vernon saw the note. Flustered, I lied, and said that I had just received the note, and had opened it before I realised who it was from. I said that the postman had dropped it off, as opposed to the reality that it was an owl which had swooped in. Vernon accepted my explanation, and did not seem in any way suspicious. Life continued.

It was a normal enough life. _Nice and normal.__ Not like _some_ -_ I broke my train of thought. There was no need to go there. My 'nice and normal' life, however, was soon shattered one day in early November with the arrival of something completely unexpected. The preceding day had started out normal enough, although, looking back now, I can recognise the signs I had chosen to ignore then. First of all, there was a mention of owls flying around in daylight. I, of course, immediately thought back to a certain day an owl flying through our window had changed _my_ life. There was also a mention of shooting stars, which reminded me of one particular occasion which involved Lily's thirteenth birthday, and a certain James Potter. I had not recovered for days afterwards. Then I despised myself for such weakness. All those old days involving _her_ should, really, have been forgotten. I shouldn't be thinking of them at all.

My plan to not think about anything relating to _certain matters_ might have worked, had not Vernon come home from work with an exceedingly odd question. Very nervously, he had asked about my sister, and whether I'd heard from her. I was shocked. We never brought her up. Ever. It was as simple as that. I replied rather sharply that no, I had not. Unable to contain my curiosity as to exactly why he had decided to enquire, I asked. His reply immediately made me wish I hadn't. He mentioned the owls. And the shooting stars. Which, of course, immediately made my mind spin off onto all sorts of tangents. I was, thankfully, able to control and suppress these thoughts. I was really very angry at Vernon. My sister had been a kind of taboo subject, and here he was, mentioning her as if she was someone completely normal! Then he made me angrier. He asked about her son, his age, and his name. I told him very stiffly that it was Harry (really, why had I even _remembered_ that fact?) and, thankfully, he dropped the subject.

The next morning was one I'll probably never forget. I had got up at my usual time, and had opened the door to put out the milk bottles. And there, on the doorstep, was a tiny basket. With a baby in it. Which, at that particular moment, chose to open its eyes. I screamed. The shape, and that specific shade of green, which I had never seen on anybody else. Eventually, I calmed down to the extent that I noticed the letter the baby was clutching in his hand. My first instinct was to tear it up. After all, I hadn't really had many good experiences involving letters. Then, however, I looked at the sleeping baby, and knew that I couldn't not read it. It had to contain some information as to what had occurred (although I was beginning to suspect the truth). I opened it, and by the time I had read the first three lines, regretted my decision.

So. Lily and her husband had been murdered, and I was now entrusted with the care of her son. That was all my stunned brain had been able to gather from the letter, and I was still in shock. I could only imagine what Vernon had thought when he found me, standing on the doorstep still staring down at the letter some twenty minutes later.

I don't remember much of the days immediately after we found Harry. My mind seemed to be constantly re-living a few, select memories - _you have been accepted to __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry ... why do you constantly pester me? ... and so, it ends ... my name is _Pe_tunia ... see you around, freaks ... but there's nothing else to be done ... are you even capable of feeling _any_thing, Petunia? ... _you_ killed them, Lily ... you are invited to the wedding ... my son is called Harry ... I am sorry to inform you that your sister Lily Evans Potter is no longer alive..._

I had believed that I hated Lily, and that I no longer cared for her. My own subconscious proved me wrong, as I relived, again and again, one of the last words she had ever said to me - _you're the freak, you're inhuman_. And the last words I had said to her - you_ killed them, Lily_. And now Lily was the one killed.

Through the memories, the pain, and the feelings of loss and sorrow, other emotions emerged. Anger and hatred. Lily and her husband had been killed, and it was people of her world who had done it. In my grief stricken state, I clung to the idea that it was the magic which had killed Lily, and that the whole magical world was to blame for her death.

* * *

When I recovered, it was to discover that Vernon had decided to take Harry in. "Only temporarily, of course," he reassured me. "Until we can find an orphanage or any other relatives from...er..._their_ side." At first I agreed whole-heartedly with him, but then I remembered the letter. Something in the letter about Harry...

"Vernon, where's that letter?" I demanded.

"What letter?"

"When I found...him...there was a letter - wasn't I holding a letter?" I was panicking. There had been something very important in that letter, something to do with Harry, and my sister's murder..._please say you didn't throw it away, __Vernon__._

After an agonisingly long pause, Vernon replied.

"Oh,_ that_ letter? I wanted to throw it away, but you were hanging onto it like it was a life belt or something. It's in the cupboard over there. But, wel, bit fishy, isn't it? I mean, it was written by one of her kind. Shouldn't we just throw it away? It might contaminate us. Or Dudley."

The thought that my dear Dudley might be affected was almost enough to deter me. But not quite. I knew that I just had to read that letter again. Almost running, I opened the cupboard and snatched the letter out. I scanned it hurriedly, my eyes skimming over the familiar words ... _I_ _am sorry to inform you ... a very powerful Dark wizard ..._

Then I came to it. The paragraph detailing why the wizard wanted us to look after Harry. Apparently Harry was still in danger from the Dark wizards who had killed my sister, and only by living with us, could he obtain some measure of protection. In a couple of minutes I reached the end of the letter. _I wish to impress upon you, once again, the importance that Harry stays with you until he is of age. I myself will be along in a few days to hear of your decision._

_Regards,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster of __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

It had been a cloudy Tuesday when I had first beheld those green eyes staring at me from the doorstep. It was now Sunday. Albus Dumbledore would be coming in two days. Vernon had read the letter along with me, and, glancing over at him, I could see that he was fully prepared to tell Dumbledore that, important or not, Harry would most definitely not be staying with us.

I automatically thought that he was right, that of course we couldn't take the risk of having someone..._abnormal_ living with us, but at that moment Harry chose to cry. "Little brat, why can't he keep his mouth shut?" muttered Vernon irritably. I went over to Harry. Looking down at him, once again I saw those amazingly deep green eyes, and I felt a twinge. _The exact same shade...so like hers..._

"Petunia? What's the matter?" Vernon sounded concerned.

Glancing once more into those eyes, I made up my mind.

"Vernon, I think that we should keep him. No, wait, let me explain. My sister was obviously...abnormal, and it was her abnormality which got her killed. This boy - he is young. Perhaps we could repress his abnormality, perhaps squash it out of him. If he grows up away from us, then one day he may come back, if he ever finds out that we abandoned him. And if...and if he's..._developed_ his powers, he might contemplate revenge. This way, at least no one could say that we didn't act as any normal upstanding citizen should, and he would be in our debt. Also, think of our reputation! I could swear that one of the neighbours was looking at us when I first found him on the doorstep. It would be good for our reputation in the neighbourhood if we took him in."

After this rather long speech, I was quite out of breath. Vernon looked at me, first as though I was out of my mind, and then I saw comprehension dawning in his eyes. Pressing my advantage, I spoke again. "We'll keep him away from Dudley. After all, we don't want Dudley associating with someone of his kind. He can sleep in that cupboard under the stairs, it's quite big enough for him. And when he gets older, he can help me with the housework. It could work out quite well, Vernon."

And so it was decided. We would keep my sister's son. Two days later Albus Dumbledore came over. Vernon spent the entire time glaring at him, and I can't say my expressions were much better. Honestly, turning up in our house wearing those clothes, if you could even call them clothes! It looked like a _dress_. And in full sight of everyone on the street _-_ all the neighbours had probably seen!

He was very pleased when we told him of our decision, and also mentioned that Lily and James' funeral would be in a few days time. He said that we were both very welcome to attend, and that it would be fitting for Harry to be at his parents' funeral. I had wanted to refuse, but I found it very difficult to not comply with his wishes. Vernon seemed to have also been affected. It was Dumbledore's eyes. They seemed to...penetrate into me, and nervously, I agreed to attend Lily's funeral.

Both me and Vernon were quite relieved when the conversation came to an end, and he turned to leave. Then he suddenly turned back, as if suddenly forgetting something. "Oh, yes, I nearly forgot...Mrs Dursley, Lily and James left several things in my possession, to be given to Harry later on. There are...various things which I think should be given to Harry personally by me, but this is Lily's old school trunk, and I think I shall leave this with you, so that you can give it to Harry when he's older." Dumbledore snapped his fingers, and an old trunk suddenly appeared in our living room. Both Vernon and I gasped, and shrunk away from it. "Well now, I think that's all I have to say. Do either of you have any questions?"

I shook my head, still staring dumbstruck at the trunk.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore beamed around at us, and took something out from his pocket. To my amazement, I recognised it as a tin of sherbet lemons. He noticed my start. "A sweet I've got rather fond of. Would either of you like one?" Vernon glared at the sweet, and shook his head curtly. I declined politely. "I'll be off, then, shall I? Once again, Mr and Mrs Dursley, thank you for agreeing to look after Harry." And with that, he shook hands with both of us (although I think he noticed how Vernon and I flinched), and left.

I stowed my sister's trunk away in the attic, vowing to never to look at its contents. Vernon didn't seem to understand why I didn't just throw it away, and I tried to explain that the trunk may have had certain things done to it. "It might be disastrous, Vernon. The things _they_ used to do, performing all sorts of rituals on perfectly ordinary things. I just don't want to risk it exploding."

As much as both Vernon and I had wanted to skip the funeral, I think that we were both secretly afraid of Dumbledore. So we went, taking Harry and Dudley with us. It was as bad as I had feared. There were a lot of people there, all from _her_ world. We sat through the funeral, and although I had been prepared to feel annoyance at the whole affair, I couldn't help the tiniest twinge of...something. As I listened to the speech about Lily and her husband, I realised that they were famous, because of what had happened with this Dark wizard. Again, the bitterness rose within me. Perfect Lily, she really had had it all. Even in death, she was famous, and her name would probably never be forgotten.

Vernon and I left as soon as possible after the funeral. Dudley had been crying the whole time, not being used to the fact that he couldn't speak whenever he wanted to. My poor darling, being forced to sit through all that. Harry had been his usual quiet self, except when a strange man had come up to us. He had screamed 'Mooey!' when he saw him, and when the man walked over, Harry had quietly murmured 'Pafoo?' At that, the strange man had sighed, briefly touched Harry's messy mop of hair (I had tried to get it tidied up, but it just wouldn't stay down - probably a mark of his abnormality), and glanced at us. Something must have told him of our feelings towards him, for he had nodded briefly, and then walked away immediately. After that incident, Vernon and I were keen to leave as early as possible. We didn't want any other people coming over, especially as they were all _those kind_ of people.

I berated myself considerably for feeling sadness and pain after my sister's death. It was weak of me, it really was. After all, I didn't even _like_ her! Also, she had brought it entirely upon herself. I had warned her, hadn't I? I had told her time and time again that her powers were not normal, and that nothing good would come of them. She was the one who had refused to listen to me. And now, she had the nerve to get herself killed, leaving us with her son! Vernon, too, shared my opinion. "The nerve! I know she's your sister and all, Petunia, but you must admit that it really is not fair. Why we have to provide for a brat like that I really don't know, but I suppose we have to do our duty."

I hoped with all my heart that Vernon and I would succeed in ridding the abnormality from Harry, but I knew that it would probably be no good. I dreaded the day an owl would come swooping in, with a letter for him, telling him he had been accepted to Hogwarts. Apart from the fact that I abhorred all things magical, it would be entirely too reminiscent of that day - that day which seemed so long ago in my own life, and which had changed it more than anybody could possibly have imagined.

Thanks for reading! Any reviews would be appreciated.


	5. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR. I own nothing.

**The Sister's Story**

**Chapter Four**

The years passed. Harry had always been kept in the cupboard. Vernon and I had tried to keep him as downtrodden as possible, and to discourage all thoughts of anything abnormal from his mind, but it was no good. We got notices from his school, saying that he had somehow managed to turn his teacher's wig blue, saying that he had completely changed the colour of the classroom walls to scarlet and gold in the space of a few seconds, and all sorts of other ridiculous things.

Harry differed with Dudley in every way possible. Dudley was spirited. He knew what he wanted, and he made damn sure he got what he wanted. Vernon and I were both proud of this trait of Dudley's. "He won't take any nonsense from anybody, our Dudders won't. No one will ever take advantage of him! Now _that_ one..." Vernon glared at Harry.

I must say I agreed. It was obvious Harry hated all three of us, but he did what he was told. At times, I would catch a rebellious glint in his eyes, but he always slouched away and obeyed my instructions. Dudley was often amused by this, and always enjoyed it when I told Harry off. Whenever he spoke to Harry about it, however, I noticed disgustedly that Harry never spoke up for himself. He just ignored my darling Dudders. Really, the rudeness! I found it very difficult to like that boy.

* * *

The day soon came, as I'd always known it would. However, instead of the dreaded owl, the letter caught me by complete surprise. Delivered innocuously by a postman together with all the other bills and postcards of the day, Vernon and I would probably have not noticed it at all. Of course, my darling Dudley was as observant as usual, and perceived at once that _that boy_ had a letter. Thankfully he informed me and Vernon at once about the fact, and we were able to prevent the contents of the letter from reaching _his_ eyes.

Vernon was horrified when he first saw the letter, and at first I didn't even know why he was stuttering so much. Very unbecoming, really. But then I noticed the green ink on the letter, forming an address which no normal hand could have written:

_Mr H. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive___

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey___

After _that_, how could I fail to be also horrified? They knew where he _slept_!

I remember the next few days as a whirl of confusion. No matter what Vernon and I tried, those letters kept coming and coming through all kinds of ways. They even came rolled up in the _eggs_! Vernon tried to telephone the dairy company, but they didn't provide any kind of explanation. We both began to fear the power of _those people_ more and more. Who knew what they were capable of?

Vernon decided that we would have to move away. After all, if they didn't know where we were, they could hardly send us letters, could they? I had to admit that his argument sounded logical, but I remembered how the things which Lily could do were all but logical. I tried pointing out to Vernon that their kind did not do things as we did, and had special powers, but Vernon refused to listen.

In the end we ended up traveling all over the country, until Vernon decided to settle on a small island in the middle of nowhere. Dudley had been complaining all day about the various television programs he was missing, and I couldn't help feeling sorry for him. After all, it wasn't his fault we had to resort to this moving all about the place. In fact, I came to the conclusion that it was all that Potter boy's fault. After all, if not for the fact that these letters were coming, we wouldn't be reduced to this undignified running around. Everything, I reflected, was really that Potter boy's fault. His and the fault of people of her kind.

We were all settled on that hut in the middle of nowhere, with hardly any supplies whatsoever. There were no appropriate sleeping facilities, and Vernon, Dudley and I had to make do with sleeping on a moth-eaten sofa. The boy, of course, slept on the floor. Quite good enough for him.

We were interrupted most rudely in the middle of the night, and all three of us screamed when we saw the huge figure standing in the doorway. The...thing...had to be at least eight feet tall! Of course, when he introduced himself as being one of them it all made sense. Those abnormal people weren't even human!

Vernon tried as hard as he could to stop the monster from disclosing the boy's background, but it was no use. Both he and I cowered in the background as the Potter boy learnt of his abnormality. A surprise came when he suddenly turned to me, fury in his eyes, demanding why I had never told him before.

I surprised even myself with my vociferous answer. My emotions about my sister, suppressed and buried deep inside me for many years, now burst out all at once. I ranted and raved until the giant interrupted with his story about the Dark wizard who killed my sister and her husband. Suddenly I was taken back again to that early Wednesday morning when I had first read that letter: ..._The murder of Lily and James Potter was committed by a very powerful Dark wizard..._

Very bravely, Vernon still persisted. The giant, however, ignored Vernon's protests (which, I might add, were for the boy's own good), and then, for no reason at all, suddenly shot out his pink umbrella and actually performed his powers on my son! He transformed my sweet Dudley, who now had a tail! The things those _creatures_ did! I was too terrified to do anything, and I think Vernon felt the same. We barricaded ourselves in another room, and spent the rest of the night in constant fear.

So the giant came, bringing havoc.

So the giant went, taking away the boy.

He would definitely be starting at that school now, and when the day came, Vernon took him to the station. He didn't have a choice, really. I knew that Vernon was secretly afraid that the giant would come back if the boy did not arrive at his school. I, too, was very reluctant to see the boy go.

Despite Vernon's and my best efforts, we were unable to prevent him from going. The ungrateful little brat, who didn't even know what we had tried to do for him! I could see him going exactly the same way as my sister, unknowingly becoming part of _their_ world, becoming one of _them_, and ultimately, dying under _their_ hands. Vernon and I, however, had tried our best to prevent him from this fate, and if he insisted on foolhardily entering that world, well, it was hardly our fault.

Two years passed. The boy had never come home for Easter or Christmas holidays, something for which I was eternally grateful. I suppose he knew that he would not get any kind of welcome, and I daresay he was probably happier in his world. Well, let him be. He probably would not have much longer there anyway, before he was killed by one of them or another. Vernon had tried to stop him going back, but to no avail. Some friends of his with the same abnormal abilities came up and rescued him. After that particular incident, we didn't try to stop him going back anymore.

It was in the summer of his second year that another event occurred which took me, once again, to the past. One day on the news, a report was made of someone called Sirius Black, who had escaped from a prison. I knew that name. Lily had often spoken of a Sirius Black when she came back in the holidays. A certain Sirius Black had also visited our house multiple times. And now he had escaped from prison. It did not surprise me, really, that a friend of _hers_ had been in prison. The news report merely confirmed my belief that people of that world were all criminals one way or another, and did not know the meaning of the word respectable.

After the boy's third year, he came back with stories of how Sirius Black was his godfather. I could now see the boy ending up like his mother - Black was a dangerous criminal! Although I felt no positive emotions for the boy, he was still my sister's son, and I would hate to lose him the same way.

Over the various years, I wanted to approach the boy many times. The feeling was particularly strong after I stumbled inadvertently into a photograph album which had fallen out of his school trunk as I was trying to lock it in the cupboard. I had at first dropped the album in shock when I saw the moving photographs, but in that brief glance I had seen enough. Two of my most basic emotions came into play - fear of _her_ world, and at the same time longing for...I don't even know what. In the end I shoved the album back into the boy's trunk. That one look, however, was enough to cause an aching sadness in me. I tried to ignore it and suppress it, but I found that I was no longer as successful at doing that as I had been before.

That night, I found myself unable to get to sleep. It had been one brief second, but the image of her laughing face, framed by her long red hair, kept flashing before my eyes. Involuntarily, I found my mind going through all the times I had spent with Lily before the fateful letter had come. Her charm, her vitality, and her cheerful features kept speeding through my brain. After awhile, I was shocked to feel a wetness on my cheeks.

For the first time since her death, I consciously let myself break down. Lily - I had lost Lily to the evilness of her world. And I knew that her son would end up the same way. _At least you should really try and save him from the same fate. _But then I thought of Lily, and her stubbornness and refusal to listen to me. The boy was also stubborn, and talking to him would probably be no good whatsoever. I said nothing, and my attitude towards him remained the same.

* * *

It was sometime after the boy's sixth year started that it began.

I had been gradually beginning to feel weak in various parts of my body, and one day I had trouble pronouncing my words. I still remember what I was doing that particular day. I had been doing my weekly vacuuming of the carpets, when I suddenly felt a very strong migraine. I had been experiencing headaches for the last year or so, but they were not particularly painful, and I had dismissed them as nothing. Vernon, however, saw me suddenly swaying on the spot with a hand pressed to my forehead, and he insisted on me going to a doctor for a check up. "The neighbours have been talking, Petunia. They've remarked to me how you've seemed to be ill. You have to go to a doctor. We can't let them gossip about you any longer."

Rather unwillingly, I went. I thought of the whole incident as a waste of time. I would go, the doctor would say there was nothing wrong with me, and honestly, why did Vernon have to be so _fussy_? So what if the neighbours had been talking? After all, it was really none of their business how well or ill I was. After my initial annoyance with Vernon had passed, however, I reflected that perhaps he was right. I knew how rumours could grow, and both of us had to be very careful of our reputation in the neighbourhood. The story about us having a nephew who was a bit weak in the head had leaked out, somehow, and I really didn't want to imagine what everyone would say if it got out that I, too, was developing some kind of illness. Perhaps it would be better if I went to a doctor and could squash these rumours before they got too out of hand.

Once I arrived, I gave the doctor a list of details about what had been happening recently. He was quite startled when I mentioned my recent headaches, and my difficulties with speech, vision, and hearing. "And you say you've also been experiencing a feeling of weakness in your arms and calves? Do they just feel tired, or can you sometimes not feel them at all?"

I replied rather reluctantly that yes, sometimes I had trouble moving because of the loss of sensation in my legs. He hesitated, and said that he would have to examine my eyes to see if he could find out what was causing my problems with vision.

After the examination, he became noticeably more nervous. "Mrs Dursley, you seem to have some swelling at the back of your eye, which could be the cause of your double vision at times."

I was puzzled, and to tell the truth, rather impatient. "So should I go to an optician to get some glasses or something? Would that correct my vision?"

"Well, you see, Mrs Dursley...the swelling in the eyes could be a symptom of...ah...various other diseases. Combined with your other symptoms - the headaches, the loss of sensation in your legs, as well as your problems with speech and hearing, it could be possible that...well, it would be hard to say right now, but these symptoms could all be part of a larger picture."

I did not like what I was hearing, and I liked even less the way the doctor would look at me, and then suddenly glance away. What was he not telling me?

"Mrs Dursley, in order to find out the exact causes of these symptoms, it may be necessary to have an X-ray taken. There are excellent X-ray facilities in a centre nearby, and if you don't mind, we could head over there now. Do you have any urgent appointments?"

I replied rather shortly that no, I didn't, and that no, I wouldn't mind having a few X-rays taken. After they were done, the doctor looked at them, and hmmed for a bit.

"Well? What's wrong with me?" I was definite that he was holding something back now.

"Perhaps...perhaps you should sit down first, Mrs Dursley."

I sat, a heaviness settling in my stomach.

"It's - it's - never easy to say this, Mrs Dursley, but I'm afraid that - that - from these X-rays it seems as though you have a tumour in your brain. Together with your other symptoms, I'd say it's pretty certain that you have a malignant brain tumour."

I could say nothing. Waves of icy horror were washing over me, paralysing my senses.

"I'd - I'd recommend going to see a neurologist, Mrs Dursley. I'm no expert at these matters, and it may be worth going to see a specialist to get some treatment, if possible."

"Treatment?' The word came out as a hoarse whisper. "Does that mean that...that...I won't...?"

The doctor knew what I meant, even though I could not force myself to enunciate the words. 'Well, as I said, I'm no expert, so I can't really comment. I really would urge you to make an appointment with a neurologist. The sooner the better. You say you've been experiencing these headaches and feelings of weaknesses for a long time already?"

"A few months at least. I - I didn't really think they mattered...I thought they were - were normal for someone my age..."

The doctor then said something else, but I didn't hear. A malignant brain tumour. I had a malignant brain tumour. The phrase kept drumming through my head, and I was barely conscious of the fact that the doctor was now asking another question. Eventually, his words managed to penetrate through the numbness.

"Is there anybody I could contact? A relative, maybe?"

"I - my husband - I'll give you his telephone number -"

I do not remember much of what happened next. Somehow, Vernon had got me back home. When I recovered, we made an appointment with a neurologist recommended by the doctor, and both of us went. The neurologist, after looking at the X-rays and hearing of my symptoms, did a couple more tests. When he came back, I could see from his face that he was going to confirm what the doctor had told me. I could have received an award for my prophesying skills.

"Is there any...treatment? Will I..." As before, I found that I could not say the words. And exactly as before, the specialist knew what I meant.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Dursley, but I'm afraid that it will be very difficult to remove the tumour without damaging the brain. It's grown too big, you see. Perhaps if it was discovered earlier, then there would be hope, but as it is...I'm afraid there's very little chance of a successful removal of the tumour."

I had somehow suspected, known, that this would be the answer, but the confirmation just made the whole situation seem more real and solid to me. So I would die. It did not occur to me to ask how long I had to live - after all, if I would die shortly, what did a few days matter? It was Vernon who asked that question.

The answer was 'quite possibly a couple of months'. It was also recommended that I stay in a hospital to prevent any sudden seizures claiming my life. I can't say that I rather enjoyed that prospect - the idea of lying in a bed day after day _knowing_ I would die was somehow more frightening than dying immediately. But in all human beings there exists some kind of natural instinct to live, no matter what, and I soon found myself settled in a hospital, complete with the knowledge that I had only weeks to live. _Well, Lily, I'll soon be joining you. For all the differences between you and me, we'll now end up in exactly the same situation._

Well, that's the story of Petunia nearly finished. Epilogue coming soon! Thanks for reading, and please leave a review.


	6. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR. I own nothing.

**The Sister's Story**

**Epilogue**

I have now been in hospital for a total of five weeks, and I have nearly come to the end of my story. As I sit here in the hospital bed, writing in this notebook, I can feel those memories washing over me again. I have tried to write down everything as it was, and to try to capture the exact emotions I had felt at the time. In doing so, I realise that I am not merely looking back into the past, I am re-living, and re-experiencing all the emotions I had once felt. The past which I have tried so hard to forget, the past which I thought I _had_ forgot, has now been re-awakened in my mind, and I know that I will never be able to forget again. I don't even know exactly why I'd first started writing in this notebook. I suppose it's because Lily died a heroine, with everyone in her world knowing her name. Nobody knows or cares about me, except possibly Vernon and Dudley. Even though this will probably never be read, I still want to make some kind of statement to the world about the kind of person I am, and to give reasons for all of my past actions.

It's strange how events turn out. I got this as a present for my tenth birthday, the exact twin to the one my sister had. The same diary I read, on that day which seems so long ago. But whereas Lily probably kept a daily account of her life, I have now written my whole life in the space of a few hours. It's daylight now, and it was evening when I first started writing. Time passes quickly. I suppose in a few days I will no longer be here. It's something I can feel, something in my bones. I know that I will not be in the land of the living for very much longer. My sister was famous in death. What will happen to me?

Looking back, I have to admit that I regret it. And that if I had another chance, I would change it all. It all started out as a plan, an act, so that Lily would be able to make friends freely in her own world, and somewhere down the line, that changed into hatred. I don't even know the exact turning point. And Harry...when I first saw Harry...that was when it all came back. I really should have acted kinder to Harry. My sister's son! But I had to hang onto my pride, and choose the easy way out. The easy way of maintaining my hatred for my sister and all things magical, and extending that hatred to her son. Maybe...maybe that was just so that I wouldn't have to admit to myself that I'd been wrong. Well, now I'm admitting it freely. And if I could turn back time, to the day when my sister first got that letter, I would allow my sister to comfort and reassure me that our friendship would not change.

It's funny. I've kept my sister's old school trunk for all these years, because I've never been able to bring myself to throw it away. Perhaps, somewhere deep in my subconscious, I still recognised that what I felt for Lily wasn't hatred. Or perhaps it was...people say there's only a very thin line between love and hate. I suppose I'll put this notebook into her trunk when I've finished. It just seems right, in some strange twisted way. As an apology to her. Yes, that's what I will do. I am tired now, and I think I hear footsteps. Perhaps I shall finish this later.

* * *

Harry turned the page, but it was blank. Those must have been the last words his aunt had written before she had died. Smothering a yawn, he turned to look at the clock on his bedside table. It was seven in the morning. He had stayed up all night reading the diary. He leant back, closing his eyes, but did not sleep. So that was his Aunt Petunia's story. It was definitely interesting. Harry had not thought much about his aunt before, always dismissing her as the woman who had contributed a lot to his miserable childhood. Now that he had read that, however, he saw her in a different light. He didn't forgive her - in his view her past treatment of him was unforgivable. But he did, to a certain extent, understand her more. He could understand, if not agree with, why she was the woman she became. _I'd always thought of her as merely a horrible woman. I'd never really considered her character or personality beyond that before. I guess everybody is three dimensional, really._

Harry got up, pulled back his bed curtains, and walked to the open window. He leant outside, breathing in the fresh morning air. Looking up towards the sky, where a few stars could still be faintly seen, he wondered a question which no human had ever been able to answer. _Are you up there somewhere, Aunt Petunia?_

The ring of Ron's alarm clock interrupted Harry's thoughts. A few minutes later, the boys' dormitory became the usual early morning bedlam, and Harry had no more opportunity to dwell on the diary. Chattering excitedly about the Quidditch match to take place that morning, he went down with Ron to breakfast.

When Harry came up later, he found that the diary was no longer on his bed, where he had left it, but instead had somehow made its way back into the trunk, and was now nestled among his mother's various possessions. Curious, he picked it back up, and flicked through it. In one of the very back pages, he discovered a photograph which he vaguely remembered as having been somewhere beneath the diary before. He wondered idly how it had moved itself into the diary, before examining it closely.

It was a Muggle photograph, and the figures depicted were still. A blond haired girl around ten years old was standing on a grassy field, holding the hand of another girl with red hair, who looked a few years younger. The two were smiling brightly, their hair apparently messed up by the wind. They looked as though they were having the time of their lives. Harry flipped the photograph over. Very faint letters in the childish script could be made out.

_Me and 'Tunia.__ Best friends for ever._

Harry smiled. Perhaps this was the diary's way of showing him that the hostility between his aunt and mother was now no more. The enmity, which had claimed such a large portion of their lives, had now died along with his aunt. She had done her part in reconciling with her sister, and, looking at the diary cradled amongst the various possessions of his mother, Harry believed that somehow, somewhere, his mother too forgave her sister for her past behaviour. He thought of the words on the photograph once more. _Best friends for ever. Well, who would have known, that's turned out to be true after all._

Fin.

Well, that's the end of the fic! Thanks for reading! And if you've read all of it up to now, please just take a few more seconds to tell me what you thought!


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